


Recovery

by LunarMuseSerenity777



Series: Amnesia au [2]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Attempted Kidnapping, Family Bonding, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hypnosis, Kidnapping, Recovery, Seizure, Surgery, drugged
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2019-07-29 09:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 10,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16261679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarMuseSerenity777/pseuds/LunarMuseSerenity777
Summary: Scrooge and family have finally gotten Donald back, but the road to recovery is a long one. Meanwhile Glumgold is down but not out.*You will need to read to read Amnesia to understand what’s going on*





	1. Chapter 1

One pilot, two nephews, three great-nephews, one honorary niece; Scrooge counted to himself as Gladstone helped the kids strap in and Launchpad prepped the plane for take off. He strapped Donald into his seat.

He paused a moment to study his nephew’s face. Donald hadn’t stirred at all on the way back to the plane. While he knew the last couple of weeks had been strenuous for the younger duck, and he mostly likely needed the rest, he couldn’t quell his worry.

Scrooge honestly didn’t want to think about what Glumgold could have done to him. With a heavy sigh he turned away and took a seat across from him.

“We’re ready, Launchpad,” he called to the pilot once he’d strapped himself in.

“You got it Mr. McDee,” Launchpad said giving him a thumbs up and the plane jerked into motion.

As they gained altitude Scrooge settled into his seat and finally allowed himself to relax a bit, though he found himself frequently checking on the sleeping duck across from him. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   
They a few hours out from Duckberg when Donald came to. His eyes fluttered open then instantly snapped snapped shut again as he winced in pain.

“Are you alright, cuz?” Gladstone asked reaching out to place a hand on his arm.

Across from them Scrooge hurriedly got to his feet. He gave a quick glance to make sure the kids were still asleep before turning his attention back to his nephews.  
Donald had hunched over in his seat, breathing erratically. He opened his bill to speak but no words came out. Scrooge felt a wave of panic overtake him and he darted over to his nephew’s side.

He hovered by Donald’s side while the younger duck struggling to get a words out. After a moment he clamped his bill shut and weakly lifted his hands to make the sign of water.

“You want something to drink?” Gladstone asked with a frown, giving his cousin a inquisitive look. Donald tried nod, but the movement sent a fresh flash of pain across his face. Gladstone gave him a sympathetic wince.

“No problem Double-D,” Gladstone said, gently patting Donald’s arm. He unfastened his seatbelt and went to get a bottle of water, while Scrooge hovered anxiously by Donald’s side.

“Here ya go cuz,” Gladstone said handing him the water bottle. Donald attempted to give him a grateful smile, but it looked more like a grimace than anything else.

He fumbled with his pocket for a moment and pulled out a small pill box. But before he could even open it Scrooge snatched it from him. Donald whined in protest.

“I’ve got something better lad,” Scrooge reassured him and went to fetch a pain killer from the first aid kit.

“Here laddie,” he said placing the pill in Donald’s hand. He watched pensively as Donald swallowed it down with a gulp of water.

Scrooge turned his attention to the pill box in his hand. He popped it open and frowned at the contents. He would have to get them analyzed once they got home.   
Though part of him didn’t want to know what Glumgold had been giving his nephew. He was already angry with the other duck, he didn’t need to add anymore fuel to the fire.

He glanced back at Donald. The younger duck had slumped back into his seat. His breathing evened out and he’d visibly relaxed. For a moment Scrooge thought he’d fallen back asleep, until he shifted in his seat and reached up a hand to rub his forehead.

Scrooge pocketed the pill box and moved to take the vacant seat beside Donald. Unwilling to move any further away from his nephew. For some reason he was on edge, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. He only had an intense feeling that something was wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

“Are we there yet?” Dewey asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Scrooge sighed and got to his feet, he had almost nodded off himself.

“Not yet, we should be landing in 30 minutes or so,” Scrooge told him, stepping over to where the kids were seated.

Louie let out a groan and turned over in his seat. Beside him Webby sat up blinking owlishly, while Huey just mumbled in his sleep and snuggled against his arm rest. Scrooge gave them a fond smile and reached over to ruffle Dewey’s hair.

“Donnie?”

Scrooge stiffened, something in Gladstone’s voice sent the uneasy feeling he had before rushing back to him. He spun around.

Gladstone had a worried expression on his face and a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. Donald was struggling to breath. His hands were trembling so badly he couldn’t unfasten his seatbelt. Scrooge felt a wave of panic overtake him as he rushed over.

“Donald,” he called, dropping down to his knees in front of his nephew. He cupped his hands around Donald’s face, anxiously peering into his cloudy eyes.

“Donald!” He called again, unable to keep the panic out of his voice. Donald just stared ahead blankly. His hands dropped down and his shaking worsened.

Fighting back his rising panic, Scrooge grabbed Donald’s wrist to check his pulse. He frowned at his rapid heart rate and looked back up at Donald’s face.

“Can you hear me, lad?” Scrooge asked, resisting the urge to shake him. Donald gave him no response.

“What’s wrong with him?” Gladstone asked in a terrified whisper. But Scrooge couldn’t find the words to answer him.

“Uncle Scrooge?” Dewey called anxiously.

“Stay back!” Scrooge ordered, throwing up an arm to block Donald from view. The kids didn’t need to see Donald like this. They had been through enough. Donald had been through enough.

Dewey stepped backwards with a frightening expression on his face. Scrooge turned back to Donald, and bit his lip as his thoughts raced. Donald needed medical attention and he needed it now.

“Launchpad!” Scrooge called out. The pilot turned slightly to look over his shoulder at him. “How far are we from Duckberg?” 

“About twenty minutes, Mr. McDee,” Launchpad answered in and unusually subdued tone. Scrooge bit into his lip again and gave an order he was sure he would regret later.

“Get us there faster.”

“Yes, sir,” Launchpad said turning back to the controls. The whole plane jerked as they accelerated.

“Gladstone,” Scrooge said turning to his nephew. But Gladstone was frozen in his seat, staring fearfully at his cousin.

“Gladstone!” He called more forcefully, making the lucky duck jump back to awareness. “I need you to radio ahead to have an EMT ready when we land.”

“R-right,” Gladstone stuttered and stumbled to his feet and up to the cockpit.

Scrooge turned back to Donald and reached up to gently stroke his head. “Just hold on laddie,” he whispered softly. “Just hold on.”


	3. Chapter 3

It had been almost an hour since Donald went in for surgery. Scrooge sat in the hospital waiting room with his head in his hands and stared down at the floor lost in thought. He let out a heavy sigh and massaged his temples.

The doctor had told them that Donald’s seizure had been caused by a subdural haematoma, a collection of blood between his brain and skull. It had most likely been caused by the same head injury that had given him amnesia in the first place. Scrooge shuttered just thinking about it.

None of this would have happened if Donald had gotten proper medical attention from the beginning, Scrooge thought angrily to himself. He snapped his eyes shut and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.  
He couldn’t tell who he was angrier at; Glumgold for what he’d done to Donald, or himself, for essentially letting it happen.

He stole a glance at the kids. This whole ordeal had been traumatizing enough for them. Louie had latched onto Gladstone and buried his face into the older duck’s side. Huey was seated beside him, flipping through his guild book nervously.

Dewey and Webby were sitting on either side of Launchpad. Webby was huddled close to the pilot, Scrooge couldn’t help but notice the poor girl was trembling. Dewey however, was still as a statue, gazing obliviously at the floor.

Scrooge tore his eyes away from them. He’d done his best to keep them from hearing the details of the type of surgery Donald had gone in for. But he was fairly certain they’d heard anyway.

“Family for Donald Duck.”

Scrooge practically sprung to his feet and all but sprinted over to the waiting doctor.

“How is he?” Scrooge asked her anxiously as the rest of the family caught up with him.

“The surgery was a success,” she told him warmly. Scrooge felt his shoulders sag in relief. “Though he’s going to be asleep for a couple more hours.”

“Can we see?” Gladstone asked stepping forward with Louie in his arms.

“Of course,” She said brightly. “If you’ll just follow me.”

………………………………………………………………………………  
They walked to Donald’s room in silence. At the door, Scrooge hung back at the threshold while Gladstone and the kids crowded around Donald’s bed.

“Everything ok, Mr. McDee?” Launchpad asked from behind. Scrooge jumped slightly and turned to face the pilot.

“I’m fine Launchpad,” Scrooge assured him, though Launchpad frowned and gave him a concerned look, but didn’t press him further. He stepped passed the older duck to join the others.

Despite the doctor’s reassurance Scrooge couldn’t help but feel a heaviness settled over him as he watched the kids cling to their sleeping uncle. Donald still had amnesia and Scrooge had no idea how much influence Glumgold held over him. And there was still the hypnosis to worry about.

Donald stirred slightly and murmured in his sleep, making everyone collectively hold their breath. But he showed no further signs of waking.

“Uncle Donald?” Huey called softly, leaning over him.

Scrooge bit into his lower lip and finally stepped into the room. Waking up in a crowded room would most likely overwhelm Donald, especially just after coming out of surgery. And there was no telling how he’d react to everyone.

As much as he didn’t want to send the kids home, until Donald had a chance to get his bearings, it would probably be best to tread carefully.

“Gladstone,” Scrooge called, turning to his nephew. “Why don’t you and Launchpad take the kids home to get some rest and something decent to eat.”

“Do we have to?” Dewey whined, giving him puppy dog eyes.

“We want to stay with Uncle Donald,” Webby protested, crossing her arms. Scrooge rose a hand to curtail any further protest.

“I know you’re all worried about your uncle,” he placated. “But it’s been hours since any of us have eaten anything substantial.”

The kids all started to complain but Gladstone cut in. “He’s right kiddos, we can come back later.” They begrudgingly let him shepherd them out. Gladstone paused at the door and turned back to his uncle.

“You coming unk?”

“I think I’ll stay for a bit longer.”

Gladstone looked him over thoughtfully, before turning to follow the kids and Launchpad out. Once they were gone Scrooge took a seat in the empty chair by Donald’s bed and quietly watched the rise and fall of his nephew’s chest.


	4. Chapter 4

Scrooge had just started to drift off to sleep when someone grabbed hold of his shoulder and gave him a shake. He jerked back to awareness and blinked up at the familiar figure that had roused him.

“Beakley?”

“Scrooge,” she replied, tucking her arms behind her back.

Scrooge straightened up in his seat rubbing his eyes. He glanced over to check on Donald before turning his attention back to Beakley.

“What are you doing here?” He asked drowsily.

“I thought I’d come check on you,” she answered curtly, then gave him a meaningful look. “Since you sent the children home to rest, but didn’t have enough sense to do the same for yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Scrooge said waving her off. He adjusted himself in his seat and crossed his arms. Beakley let out a long suffering sigh.

“Scrooge,” She said firmly. “I understand that you’re still worried for Donald, we all are, but you need to take care of yourself too.”

“I said, I’m fine,” Scrooge replied stubbornly, keeping his gaze trained away for her.

“I can see that,” Beakley said dryly and fixed a stern gaze on him. “That’s why you were falling asleep in your seat. It wouldn’t kill you to go home and get some proper sleep.”

“I am not leaving this hospital.”

“You haven’t gotten a decent night’s rest since this all start,” Beakley pointed out emphatically. A tense silence permeated the room as Beakley stared down her employer.

After a few tense moments Scrooge let out a sigh and his shoulders slumped. He looked at Donald remorsefully then turned to Beakley with wet sorrowful eyes.

“Beakley,” he said softly. “I can’t leave him again.”

Beakley sighed in defeat. “Alright,” She said quietly. “But can you at least go down to the food court and eat something.”

Scrooge looked away contemplatively. After a long moment he closed his eyes with a heavy sigh.

“Alright,” he said finally and got to his feet. He cast one final look at Donald’s sleeping form before moving to exit the room with Beakley.


	5. Chapter 5

Donald shifted in his hospital bed. He’d woken up to an empty room, his nurse had told him that the kids and Gladstone had gone home a little over an hour ago and Scrooge had gone to get something to eat from the food court.

She’d offered to have someone go fetch him, but Donald had declined. He needed some time alone to think. His mind was remarkably clear, clearer than it had been in while. Which was odd since he’d just come out of surgery.

He stared up at the ceiling as he mulled things over in his head. Nothing seemed to add up. Uncle Flint claimed to be his only family, but he knew Gladstone was his cousin. And the kids…

Donald groaned and closed his eyes. ‘They’re Della’s boys.’ But who was Della? The name was so familiar, but it filled him with conflicting emotions. His face scrunched up as he wrestled with his thoughts.

Della was… his sister?

The touch of a hand to the top of his head jolted him from his thoughts. He took a gasp of breath and blinked up in confusion at the person standing over him.

“Uncle Flint?”

The older duck gave him a weary smile. He looked tired and more than a little frazzled, and Donald couldn’t help but notice he was dressed in hospital scrubs.

“Hey laddie,” he said softly, his voice was a bit hoarse. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to get to you.”

“I, it’s alright,” Donald said quietly and glanced away to gather his thoughts.

Uncle Flint let out a heavy sigh and gently caressed Donald’s head. “Now, I think it’s time we got you ho-“

“No.”

Above him Uncle Flint sputtered in shock. Donald took advantage of the moment to gather up his nerve. He took a deep breath and looked up the older duck with the most serious expression he could muster.

“Are you really my uncle?” He asked him earnestly. A horrified look spread across Uncle Flint’s face.

“Of course I’m your uncle!” He snapped angrily making Donald flinch away from him. “What has McDuck been telling you?!”

Donald fidgeted uncomfortably and glanced away nervously. Uncle Flint took a few breaths to calm himself and reached up to rub his forehead. He gave Donald a critical look and took hold of the younger duck’s arm.

“Listen lad,” he coaxed. “We can talk about this later. Right now we need to go.”

“No,” Donald said firmly, trying to to pull his arm away. He took a few shaky breaths and closed his eyes.

“I-I just,” he continued weakly. “I just need some time to think. Please.”

A tense silence settled over them. Uncle Flint let out a weary sigh and tightened his grip on Donald’s arm.

“I’m sorry about this lad,” he said softly. “But you’ve left me no choice.”

Before Donald could process what he said he felt a prick in his arm. He jerked his head up to look at the older duck but the room shifted strangely around him and he felt a familiar, unwelcome feeling take hold of him. He let out a weak whimper as the strange feeling spread throughout his body.

“Shh laddie,” Uncle Flint cooed. “Just relax, it’ll all be over soon.”

Donald’s vision started to blur out as Uncle Flint reached over him unhook the IV from his other arm. He desperately wanted to move, but his body refused to respond.

He felt Uncle Flint lift him from the hospital bed. His head lulled against the older duck’s chest. Uncle Flint settled him into a waiting wheelchair and pulled a face mask over his bill.

Donald blinked heavily, he was clinging desperately to consciousness but everything felt so distant. He faintly heard a crash in the room and felt someone grab hold of his shoulders and shake him. He could just make out someone calling his name, but it sounded so far away. The world faded away as oblivion claimed him.


	6. Chapter 6

Scrooge walked down the hall back to Donald’s room. He hadn’t really been hungry, but Beakley hadn’t relented until he’d finished a square meal at least.

The cafeteria food wasn’t the worst he’d ever eaten, years of eating his own cooking while out adventuring attested to that, but it still left something to be desired. Beakley had left him once she was satisfied he wasn’t going to starve.

Scrooge let out a heavy sigh as stepped into Donald’s room, then stopped dead at the sight in front of him.

Donald had been moved from his hospital bed, he was sitting slumped in a wheelchair. His eyes were half lidded and there was a face mask over his bill. Leaning over him, with his back to Scrooge was the familiar figure of Glumgold.

A wave of panic seized hold of Scrooge as he sprang across the room and literally flung Glumgold away from Donald. Glumgold crashed into a distant wall, but Scrooge paid him no further mind and dropped down to his knees in front of his nephew.

“Donald,” Scrooge called desperately, taking hold of the younger duck’s shoulders. But Donald didn’t respond, whether it was because he couldn’t hear him or he was physically unable to, Scrooge didn’t know.

Scrooge shook him a bit more forcefully then he intended. “Donald!” He called again, the panic seeping into his voice. His heart nearly stopped when Donald’s eyes slid completely shut.

He’s still breathing, Scrooge reassured himself as he pulled the mask from Donald’s face with a shaky hand. A groan from the other side of the room drew Scrooge’s attention away from his nephew.

He turned to where Glumgold was sprawled out, rubbing his head. He looked up at Scrooge and the two locked eyes. Scrooge felt two weeks worth of pent up rage burn through him. It must have shown on his face, because a look of absolute terror took hold of Glumgold’s features.

The heavyset duck bolted for the door, but Scrooge intercepted him, throwing him to the ground. Glumgold landed hard on his back and Scrooge jabbed the end of his cane into the downed duck’s chest.

“F-fancy seeing y-you he-here, S-Scroogey,” Glumgold stammered as he stared up at the enraged duck looming over him. Scrooge growled and his eye twitched.

“What do you think you’re doing here, Flinty?” Scrooge asked him. His voice was low and menacing.

Glumgold let out a nervous chuckle and tried to back away from him. Scrooge pressed his cane further into Glumgold’s chest stopping him in his tracks.

“Come on, Scroogey,” Glumgold said nervously. “There’s nothing wrong with a man wanting to visit his nephew in the hospital.”

Scrooge’s face contorted in rage.

“Donald. Is. NOT. Your. Nephew!”

Something flashed in Glumgold’s eyes and the expression on his face shifted.

“I’ve been a better uncle to him than you ever have,” Glumgold said indignantly.

Scrooge snapped.

He tossed his cane aside and launched himself at the other duck to pummel him. Scrooge was so lost to his rage he didn’t hear the commotion as doctors and nurses swarmed into the room to investigate, until he was bodily removed from Glumgold by a pair of Orderlies. The moment he was free from Scrooge’s wrath Glumgold fled.

Scrooge struggled in the Orderlies’ grasp. “Let me go!” He demanded. Glumgold needed to pay for what he did to- Donald!

The thought broke him free from his rage. He frantically scanned the room for his nephew. The doctors had moved Donald from the wheelchair back to his hospital bed. A doctor was standing over him with a needle to his arm.

Scrooge felt a fresh wave of panic overtake him. He kicked back into the Orderlies’ ribs, forcing them to release him. The second his feet touched the ground he was at Donald’s side.

“What are you doing?” He asked, grabbing hold of the doctor’s arm.

“I’m just taking a blood sample,” the doctor explained quickly. “We need to know what he was given.”

Hesitantly, Scrooge let go of the doctor’s arm, allowing him to continue, and hovered anxiously by Donald’s bedside. He stared down at the sleeping duck remorsefully. Once the doctor left to get the sample tested, he moved closer.

“I’m sorry, lad,” Scrooge whispered softly, cupping Donald’s face with his hand. “I should have been here.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little short this time.

Beakley hovered outside the hospital room, pensively watching her employer. She had barely made it down the street when she’d received a frantic call from hospital staff begging her to come back. They had been a bit vague on the details, but from what she’d gathered something had happened to Donald and Scrooge had naturally thrown a fit.

He was quiet now, sitting on the edge of Donald’s bed, clinging to one of the younger duck’s hands with both of his own. Beakley shifted uncomfortably on her feet and with a heavy sigh, stepped into the room.

“Scrooge.”

“Bentina.”

Oh, this was worse than she thought. She bit into her lower lip and took a deep breath before continuing. “How is he?”

“The doctors think he’ll be out for at least another hour,” Scrooge said softly, not taking his eyes off of Donald. “But they won’t let me take him home until he wakes up.”

“Is it… wise, to have him released so soon after surgery?” Beakley asked tentatively.

“He’s not staying in this hospital a second longer than necessary,” Scrooge snapped. A sudden tension overtook the room. Beakley let out a heavy breath and thought over her next words carefully.

“For what it’s worth,” she said slowly. “I’m sorry.”

That caught Scrooge’s attention. He finally tore his gaze away from Donald and looked up at her. A surprised look coloring his features. He regarded quietly for a long moment.

“This wasn’t your fault,” he said finally and gazed off into the distance. “I should have realized…”

He shook his head and turned his attention back to his nephew. Beakley studied him quietly for a moment, uncertain of what to say next.

“Beakley,” Scrooge said suddenly, breaking her from her thoughts. “Will you clean up Donald’s old bedroom? I doubt it would safe for him to stay on the houseboat right now.”

“Of course,” Beakley responded gently. Scrooge flashed her a grateful before dropping his gaze down again. Hesitantly, Beakley stepped over to him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“He’s going to be ok,” she reassured him.

Scrooge sighed softly and closed his eyes. He placed a hand on top of hers and gave it a squeeze.

“I know,” he whispered softly, his voice quiet and unsure. “I know.”


	8. Chapter 8

Donald’s return to consciousness was agonizingly slow. His body felt heavy and detached. It felt like his head was stuffed with cotton and his mouth was dry.

For awhile, how long he wasn’t sure, the world felt distant and almost unsubstantial. He could just make out the sound of voice, but they were too faint for him to make out what was being said.

Gradually, his awareness returned to him. He could feel someone clinging to his hand. There was a murmur of a familiar voice and he felt a hand cup his face.

His brow furrowed at the touch and he finally managed to pry himself from the fog. He forced his eyes open, blinking heavily in the fluorescent lights.

“Donald?”

He looked up at the speaker, trying to make out their features in his blurred vision. After a long moment the haze cleared and he found himself staring up at the face of Scrooge McDuck.

“Scrooge?” Donald asked hoarsely, blinking up at him in confusion. A look of relief spread across the older duck’s face.

“I’m here laddie,” Scrooge said softly, gently stroking Donald’s cheek with his thumb.

Donald opened his bill to speak but was interrupted by a coughing fit. Scrooge quickly grabbed a cup of water and brought it to the younger duck’s lips. Donald took a sip of water and sighed in relief.

“Are you alright, lad?” Scrooge asked anxiously. Donald managed a nod and took a moment to catch his breath. Once he’d recovered, he looked back up at Scrooge.

“What… happened?” He asked quietly, not missing the concerned look Scrooge gave him.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Scrooge asked him, tightening the grip he had on Donald’s hand.

Donald furrowed his brow and tried to make sense of his thoughts. “I-I’m not sure,” he admitted quietly. “U-Uncle Flint was here a-and…”

His voice trailed off as he tried to remember but the memories evaded him. He reached up a hand rub his forehead, not noticing how Scrooge flinched at his words.

“I can’t-“ he tried to continued, but Scrooge shushed him.

“Easy lad,” Scrooge said tenderly. “Don’t push yourself.”

Donald sighed softly and glanced away. A soft knock on the door drew their attention to the nurse in the doorway. She gave them a warm smile and stepped into the room.

“It’s good to see you’re finally awake Mr. Duck,” She said to Donald, then turned to Scrooge. “Mr. McDuck, if you could just step out-“

“No.” Scrooge said firmly, cutting her off.

“Mr. McDuck-“

“No,” Scrooge repeated irritably. “I am Not leaving this room.”

A tense silence descended on the room as Scrooge stared the nurse down. Donald shifted uncomfortably in his bed, glancing between the two. Finally, the nurse let out an exasperated sigh.

“Alright,” she conceded. “But I need to give Mr. Duck a quick examination before he can be released.”

Donald looked up at the older duck as he regarded the nurse silently. Scrooge let out a disgruntled grunt and stepped aside wordlessly, but hung close to Donald’s bedside. The nurse eyed him suspiciously for a moment before stepping over to Donald.

Scrooge watched her like a hawk as she went about checking Donald’s pulse and blood pressure. She asked him a few questions. Donald fumbled a bit with his words, but answered her the best he could. Finally she checked his eyes.

“Well, everything appears to be in order,” She said looking over her clipboard.

“Does that mean I can take him home now?” Scrooge asked her stiffly. She glanced at him uncomfortably.

“Ah, yes. Just let me get his release papers,” she said awkwardly and excused herself from the room.

Once she was gone Scrooge reclaimed his place by Donald’s bed. Donald let himself sink back down into his bed. His eyelids drooped and he felt himself start to drift off again.

“Don’t worry lad,” Scrooge said reassuringly, placing a hand on Donald’s head. “We’ll be going home soon.”

Donald wanted to comment, but he found himself too tired to. He let himself doze for the time being.


	9. Chapter 9

Glumgold sat on the edge of the bed in Donald’s room, staring angrily at the floor. Donald’s resistance had surprised him. It was clear that the younger duck was starting to break free of his control.

Curse McDuck for showing up when he did. If only he’d been a minute later…

Glumgold let out a heavy sigh and leaned back on the mattress. He was certain he’d never felt this way before. For once he had bested McDuck, gotten two of the three keys, and yet…

Without Donald here, his victory felt hallow.

He ground his teeth as he stared up at the ceiling. Never in his life had he wanted something this badly. More than besting McDuck, more than the king’s treasure. He wanted, no he needed Donald by his side.

His only consolation was that while his influence over Donald was waning, it was still there. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

McDuck would certainly have his guard up now. For now he’d have to be patient and wait for an opportunity to present itself. He just had to be ready for it.

He let out a slow breath and opened his eyes. He would get Donald back, he promised himself. Even if it was the last thing he did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scrooge was waiting impatiently for the nurse to get through Donald’s release paperwork when he felt an involuntary shutter run down his back. He frowned and glanced around the room unnerved.

“Is everything alright Mr. McDuck?” The nurse asked him, bringing him back to the present.

“I’m fine,” he answered a bit distantly. He shook his head and turned to face her. “Are we free to go now.”

She paused a moment, giving him a critical look. She looked like she want to protest but seemed to think better of it and nodded.

“Yes, you can leave now,” she answered in a subdued tone. Once her confirmation was given Scrooge was by Donald’s side.

“Donald,” he called, gently rousing the younger duck. Donald jerked awake and blinked up at him.

“What-“

“It’s time to go home lad,” Scrooge told him softly.

Donald nodded mutely in response and started to push himself up. Scrooge helped him to feet and over to a wheelchair. As soon as he settled into it Donald started to nod off again.

Hesitantly, the nurse stepped forward holding out a stack of papers. “This is a prescription for pain meds and information about his injuries,” she said reluctantly. “Should his condition get worse please bring him back-“

“Yes, yes,” Scrooge said flippantly taking the papers from her. “Thank you.”

Scrooge gave her a curt nod and promptly turned his attention back to his nephew. He took hold of the wheelchair’s handles and guided it out of the room. The sooner he got Donald home, the sooner he could relax.

He honestly didn’t know how much influence Glumgold still held over Donald. He was still referring to him as ‘Uncle Flint,’ much to Scrooge’s dismay. And after the little stunt Glumgold had pulled earlier, Scrooge wasn’t putting anything past him.

Scrooge sighed and glanced down at the dozing duck in front of him. Part of him was desperate to restore Donald’s memories, but at the same time, he was painfully aware of how fragile Donald was right now.

He took a deep breath and trained his gaze forward. There was a long road ahead of them, but Scrooge was going to do everything in his power to make sure Donald would be alright in the end.


	10. Chapter 10

Beakley had just thrown open the window of Donald’s old room to air it out when a soft sound drew her attention to the doorway. She turned to find Webby and Huey watching her intently.

“Can I help you?” She asked them. Huey fidgeted nervously at her question, but Webby stepped forward.

“What are you doing?” Webby asked. Beakley regarded her granddaughter quietly for a moment before turning back to her work.

“I’m just tidying up your Uncle Donald’s old bedroom,” she answered, busying her with dusting.

“This use to be Uncle Donald’s room?” Huey whispered to himself, looking around curiously, while Webby sprang over the her Grandmother.

“How come?” Webby asked. “Uncle Donald prefers to stay in the houseboat, doesn’t he?”

“Mr. McDuck felt it would be safer for him to stay inside the manor for the time being,” Beakley explained not looking up. “It’ll be easier to keep an eye on him while he recovers, especially tonight.”

“Wait, I thought Uncle Donald was staying at the hospital tonight,” Huey said turning away from the bookshelf he’d been examining. Beakley pauses in her dusting and a sudden tension overtook the room.

“D-Did something happen?”

Webby glanced nervously between Huey and her Grandmother. Beakley sighed heavily and turned to face the children.

“I won’t lie to you,” she told them seriously. “Something did happen, and your Great Uncle is bringing Donald home for his own safety.”

“Glumgold?” Webby asked almost knowingly and Beakley gave her a resigned nod of confirmation.

“He’s ok though, right?” Huey asked anxiously.

“Given some time and rest, he should be fine,” she said reassuringly. A small smile played on her bill as she watched both children relax.

“However,” She continued sternly. “I want you to be mindful of his condition and give him the space and quiet he’s going to need to recover.”

“Don’t worry Granny, we will,” Webby told her confidently. Huey nodded solemnly in agreement.

“Alright then,” Beakley said giving them a warm smile. “Run along now. I still have a lot of work to do and your uncles should be home soon. Oh and make sure to tell Louie and Dewey what I said.”

“Yes, Mrs. Beakley.”

“Yes, Granny.”

Beakley saw them off with a nod as the pair left the room and turned back to her work. She was just straightening out the nightstand when an old photograph caught her eye.

It was a picture of Donald, Della, and Scrooge when the twins had been small. She picked up for a closer look. All three of them were beaming at the camera. Donald was perched on his uncle’s shoulder while Della was clinging to his arm.

It had been a long time since she’d seen Donald smile like that.

With a heavy sigh she placed the photo back down. She could only hope that once this was all over Scrooge would finally patch things up with Donald. The two of them needed each other, more so than either of them seemed to realize.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update. I’ve been going through a rough time.

Recovery part 11

Hot air whipped through Scrooge’s feathers as he dove down after Donald. His hand was just inches from Donald’s when the grappling hook wire went taut. Scrooge made a desperate grab for his nephew, but Donald slipped from his grasp and plummeted towards the lava below.

“Donald!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scrooge woke in a cold sweat, nearly catapulting himself off his bed. It was just a dream, he told himself shakily, but still found himself scrambling to his feet.

It wouldn’t hurt to make sure everything was in order, Scrooge reasoned to himself as he hurried from his room. Certainly not because he was rattled by a silly nightmare.

The manor was almost eerily quiet as Scrooge made his way down the hall. He practically skipped to a stop outside of Donald’s room. For a long moment, he stood there frozen in place.

Donald’s fine, he reassured himself, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Finally, with a heavy, defeated sigh he pushed open the door and stepped into the room.

He crept silently to his nephew’s bedside. Donald was sleeping soundly with a peaceful expression on his face. Scrooge felt a wave of relief wash over him and he sank down into the chair by Donald’s bed.

“Is everything alright, Mr. McDuck?”

Scrooge jumped at the sudden voice and turned to the speaker. Duckworth was standing just behind him wearing a concerned expression on his face. Scrooge let out a relieved breath.

“I’m fine, Duckworth,” Scrooge said softly turning back to Donald. Duckworth looked him over critically for a moment.

“Very well, sir,” Duckworth said dutifully. “If you need anything…”

Scrooge nodded silently and Duckworth faded from the room, the look of concern still on his face. Once he was gone, Scrooge let himself settle into his seat. He watched the steady rise and fall of Donald’s chest and finally felt the tension leave him.

Everything’s fine, he thought to himself as he stared to drift off. Donald’s safe.


	12. Chapter 12

Donald woke up to the soft gray of the early dawn. He blinked drowsily and reached up to rub the sleep from his eyes. His thoughts were still a bit sluggish, but he felt remarkably well all things considered.

He pushed himself up and took in his surroundings. He’d been too out of it yesterday to really take note of anything. But before he could he really examine the room he noticed the sleeping form of Scrooge in a chair by his bed.

The older duck was slumped in his seat with a blanket draped over him. Donald studied him silently for a moment. Even in his sleep Scrooge looked ruffled and stressed. He had half a mind to wake him, but the old duck looked like he needed the sleep. As quietly as he could, Donald got to his feet and crept out of the room.

Donald stepped out into the hall, closing the door quietly behind him and let out a sigh. He wasn’t really sure what to do with himself next, so he wandered down the hall. It was still early and the manor was oddly still. He assumed everyone was still asleep.

There was a stark difference between Scrooge’s manor and Uncle Flint’s. It felt… Older? More lives in? Familiar? Donald frowned and shook the thought away.

Maybe the were similar, Donald thought to himself. After all he hadn’t really wandered around Uncle Flint’s mansion. In fact, Uncle Flint has discouraged him from roaming around. He had been adamant Donald keep to his room when he wasn’t with him.

And yet… there was a nagging feeling that Donald couldn’t quite shake.

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice where he was going until he found himself in the foyer. Donald was just about to move on when the large painting above the fireplace caught his eye. He frowned and moved closer to get a better view.

It was a vivid piece depicting a heroic looking battle with a gang of pirates. Donald’s frown deepened and his brow furrowed as he studied the painting closely. Scrooge was front and center locked in combat with a ghostly parrot. On top of the mast there was a familiar looking woman crossing swords with another pirate.

And there, swinging on a rope to the side was another duck that looked a lot like…

A sudden, sharp pain shot through Donald’s head. He winced and his eyes snapped shut as he stumbled backwards, one hand shooting up to his head. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself and just as quickly as the pain had come, it was gone.

“Are you alright?”

Donald nearly jumped out of his feathers. He spun around to face the speaker, and found himself facing Scrooge’s ghost… butler, Duckworth. Though he wasn’t sure how he knew that.

“I-I’m alright,” Donald said awkwardly, reaching over to rub his arm nervously and trained his gaze downward. Duckworth gave him a sympathetic smile.

“It’s still fairly early,” he told him gently. “Perhaps you should get some more rest.”

Donald mulled over his suggestion for a moment. He had spent a lot of time ‘resting’ the last couple of weeks. At the moment, he really didn’t want to go back to bed. He needed to do something. Anything.

“Actually,” Donald started timidly, glancing up at the spectral butler. “I’d like to make something to eat.”

Duckworth regarded him quietly for a moment, then gave him a warm smile. “Of course,” he said brightly. “Shall I show you to the kitchen?”

Donald hesitated a moment, then nodded and followed the butler out of the room.


	13. Chapter 13

Scrooge woke up with a groan and reached up to rub the sleep from his eyes. His back was stiff from sleeping upright and cracked painfully when he straightened in his seat. He blinked drowsily, glancing over at Donald’s empty bed, and he heart stopped.

“Donald!” He cried jumping to his feet, frantically scanning the room for his nephew.

An all-consuming fear took hold of him when he couldn’t locate Donald in the room. He rushed from the room and all but bolted down the hall. Donald couldn’t have gotten far by himself, Scrooge thought to himself as he made his way to the foyer. He was so lost to his panic he almost ran headlong into Gladstone.

“Whoa Unk,” Gladstone said nonchalantly throwing out an arm to stop his uncle from face planting. “Where’s the fire?”

Scrooge took a moment to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. He fixed an intense gaze on Gladstone.

“Donald,” he said breathlessly. Gladstone frowned at him in confusion prompting Scrooge to continue. “Donald’s gone.”

A look of horror flashed across Gladstone’s face. “Are you sure?” He asked anxiously. “He couldn’t have left without us knowing.”

Scrooge closed his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts. There was no way anyone could have broken into the manor, even Glumgold wasn’t that stupid. And the estate was a fair distance from the city. It would be impossible for Donald to get there by foot considering his current condition.

“Unk?” Gladstone called nervously.  
Scrooge let out a slow breath and brought a hand up to his temple. He needed to calm down. He needed to think.

“Mr. McDuck.”

The new voice brought Scrooge back to reality with a jerk. He spun around to face the speaker. Duckworth had materialized beside him, wearing a concerned look on his face.

“Duckworth,” Scrooge said urgently, rushing over to his butler. “Donald is…”

“Master Donald is fine, sir,” Duckworth interjected quickly making Scrooge blink in surprise. “He’s in the kitchen making breakfast.”

Scrooge felt a wave of relief wash over him as the fear and tension left him.

“I must apologize,” Duckworth continued solemnly. “I wanted to inform you right away, but I felt it unwise to leave him alone. Beakley is with him now and I was just on my way to wake you.”

“That’s alright, Duckworth,” Scrooge said hurriedly and set off down the hall with new-found purpose. Both Gladstone and Duckworth stared after him.

“Mr. McDuck?”

“Hey, wait up Unk.”


	14. Chapter 14

Donald practically jumped a foot in the air and nearly dropped the plate of pancakes he was holding when Scrooge burst into the kitchen. Beakley shot her employer a warning glare from her spot by the stove.

“Donald,” Scrooge said trying, and mostly failing, to sound casual. “Good morning. I wasn’t expecting you to be up this early.”

Donald shifted uncomfortably and trained his gaze on the plate in his hands. “Ah, morning um Mr. McDuck.” He said awkwardly.

Scrooge visibly flinched. “You… you can just call me Scrooge, lad,” Scrooge told him in a dishearten voice.

“Oh, um all right M-Scrooge,” Donald mumbled clumsily, decidedly not looking at the older duck, and turned to place the plate of pancakes on the counter.

For a moment a heavy, uncomfortable silence settled over them. The tense atmosphere was short-lived though, as Gladstone staggered into the kitchen gasping for breath.

“Geez Unk,” he panted, doubling over. “How do you move so fast at your age?”

Scrooge gave the lucky goose a scathing look that Gladstone pointedly ignored as he straightened up. Once he caught his breath Gladstone turned his attention to his cousin.

“Morning Double D. Good to see you on your feet,” Gladstone said brightly, stepping over to him.

“Ah, morning Gladstone,” Donald said sounding relieved as Gladstone clapped him on the shoulder and looked over at the crowded countertop.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve had your blueberry pancakes,” Gladstone commented flashing a broad smile at his cousin.

“I might’ve made too many, again,” Donald mumbled a bit self consciously.

Gladstone chuckled and patted Donald’s shoulder gently. “Seriously Cuz, in this family it's impossible to make too many pancakes.”

Scrooge watched their exchange silently with a sorrowful look in his eyes. Neither of the cousins noticed their uncle’s distress, but Beakley caught the old duck’s expression and stepped in.

She cleared her throat, drawing Donald and Gladstone’s attention. “Perhaps the two of you could go set the table before the children get down here.” She suggested directing a meaningful look at Gladstone.

A look of understanding flashed across Gladstone’s face. “Come on D Squared,” he said grabbing a couple plates off the counter. “The little gremlins will up any moment now.”

“Ah, alright,” Donald said hesitantly, glancing between Gladstone and Beakley with a confused frown on his bill. He took a plate from the counter and followed Gladstone out of the room.

Once the pair was gone Beakley stepped over to Scrooge. “He just needs time.” she told him gently.

“I know,” Scrooge said softly, but a pained expression still clung to his face. “I know.”


	15. Chapter 15

Donald slumped heavily in his dining room chair while Gladstone finished setting the table. He rubbed his head absently, there was a dull, throbbing pain in his forehead that had slowly settled in.

“Are you alright, Lad?”

Donald jerked his head up, sending a spike of fresh pain through his head. He blinked rapidly and peered up at the speaker through a sudden haze. Scrooge gazed back at him, a look of concern evident in his eyes.

“I-I’m fine,” Donald stuttered weakly.

Scrooge opened his bill to speak, but a sudden sound from the doorway halted his words and he redirected his attention there. Curiously, Donald followed his gaze to where the kids were standing, staring awestruck at the food laden-table.

“Pancakes!” Webby cheered excitedly and rushed to her seat. The boys quickly followed suit. A fond smile tugged at Donald’s bill as he watched them scramble into their chairs. Gladstone stepped beside him and let out an amused chuckle.

“Yup,” he said brightly, patting Donald on the back. “Leave it to good ol’ Donnie D to get up extra early to make everyone breakfast when he should be resting.”

Donald felt his face heat up and he dropped his gaze awkwardly. “Gladstone.” He chastised weakly.

“You remembered that today is Blueberry Pancake Day?” Louie asked, an unmistakable glimmer of hope in his eyes.

An abrupt silence took hold of the room as everyone’s attention was directed at the unlucky duck. Donald stiffened in his seat, staring vacantly at the plate in front of him. 

Blueberry Pancake Day?

Scrooge cleared his throat, breaking the tension that had descended upon them. “The food won’t stay warm forever.” He said with a broad grin. “I suggest we dig in before it gets cold.”

Donald felt a wave of relief as the kids took the old duck’s suggestion without fuss. Scrooge took his seat at the head of the table and started on his own breakfast. Though Donald didn’t notice the concerned way the old miser watched him out the corner of his eye.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While the atmosphere of the room had lightened considerably, Scrooge couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was… off. Perhaps it was just the uncertainty of the situation, but the old duck wasn’t about to discard it.

It was good to see the kids relatively relaxed. Even though they were all, with the exception of Gladstone, walking on eggshells around Donald. Scrooge shot another fugitive glance at his nephew.

Donald wasn’t eating much. He picked at his food, taking a few bites here and there, but mostly he stared at his plate with a distance look in his eyes. Concern bubbled in Scrooge’s chest, but he didn’t know how to broach the topic.

“Not hungry, Cuz?” Gladstone asked, poking Donald amiably in the arm, making the other duck jump at the unexpected touch. 

“I, ah guess I don’t have much of an appetite,” Donald mumbled looking away. Gladstone gave him a sympathetic smile and patted his arm. 

“Take it easy, Double D,” Gladstone said warmly, with an understanding look in his eyes. Donald gave him a weak nod in reply.

Scrooge felt a tingle of jealousy as he watched their interaction. While he was grateful to have Gladstone here, it pained him to be unable to connect with Donald in the same manner.

Donald sighed softly and reached up to rub his head again. The movement caught Scrooge’s attention and a concerned frown took hold of his features, and he kept a close eye on the younger duck.

It wasn’t long before the pancakes were gone and for the first time in weeks a calm, comfortable silence settled over everyone. Scrooge shifted slightly in his seat and glanced around the table, uncertain and a bit unwilling to interrupt the peaceful moment. Before he could decide what to say, Huey broke the silence.

“Thank you for breakfast, Uncle Donald,” Huey said brightly, giving his uncle a beaming smile. Donald looked up at him in surprise.

“Yeah, thank you,” Louie chimed in quietly.

“The pancakes were great,” Dewey added in with a grin.

“They were the best we’ve had in awhile,” Webby said brightly, bouncing in her seat.

A bright blush shone through Donald’s feathers. “You’re welcome.” Donald mumbled softly, dropping his gaze with an embarrassed smile on his bill. Before any more could be said, he stumbled to his feet and started gathering up the dirty dishes.

“I should… I should get these cleaned up,” Donald said awkwardly. Gladstone gave him an easy grin and got to his feet.

“Let me give you a hand with those Double D,” He said grabbing a stack of plates. Donald blinked at him in astonishment, but made no comment and moved to exit the room.

Once they were gone Scrooge let out a heavy sigh and slumped in his seat. The day had barely started and he was already exhausted. He reached up to rub his forehead but a soft sound made him pause and turn to the children’s side of the table. Louie was staring down intently at the table with an unreadable expression on his face. Huey had a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder and a concerned look in his eyes.

“Is everything alright, lad?” Scrooge asked, a pang of worry settling in his chest.

Louie glanced up at him then back down. “It’s just.” He mumbled softly. “It’s just… he still doesn’t…” Louie’s voice trailed off and he curled in on himself.

The silence that followed spoke volumes. Scrooge rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He turned his gaze away and stared painfully out into the distance. “I know.” He said softly. Vacantly.

Then he shook his head and looked back at the children. “I know this has been hard on all of us. He just needs some more time, we need to be patient for now.” He told them with as much confidence he could muster. “You’ll see, everything will turn out alright.” Scrooge reached over to ruffle Louie’s hair, with a reassuring smile on his face. Louie blinked heavily and gave his great uncle a weak nod.

Scrooge patted his head and settled back into his seat. A sudden crash echoed from the kitchen, shattering the tentative peace that had barely settled over them, and for the second time that morning Scrooge felt his heart stop in his chest.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I got into a bit of rut.

Scrooge crashed into the kitchen door with nearly enough force to take it off its hinges. He stumbled into the room, just barely keeping himself from falling flat on his face. His sudden startled the two younger ducks.

“What happened?” The old duck demanded looking over the scene. Both his nephews were on the floor. Donald was propped up against Gladstone with his eyes clamped shut.

“Don-“

“It’s nothing,” Donald said weakly, cutting off his cousin. “I just, I just, lost my balance.”

Gladstone shot his uncle pleading look. Cautiously, Scrooge stepped over to them and and lowered himself to the floor. “Donald.” He said softly, reaching out a tentative hand. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Donald said tensely, trying to bury his head his head into Gladstone’s chest.

Gladstone and Scrooge shared a concerned look before turning their attention back to the distressed duck. “Did ya remember to take your pain pills, cuz?” Gladstone asked softly, placing a gentle hand on the side of Donald’s head.

Donald winced at the touch and flinched away. “I don’t need them.” Donald mumbled in a strained tone. “I just… need a minute.”

“Lad,” Scrooge said carefully. “Your medicine will help-“

“No!” Donald said forcefully, making both Scrooge and Gladstone jump. Donald took a few heavy, ragged breaths.

“I can’t,” He continued shakily. “I won’t… I can… I can take the pain, but I don’t… I don’t want…”

His voice trailed off leaving a tense silence that hung heavy in the room. Scrooge furrowed his brow. “Donald.” He said slowly. “What do you mean?”

Donald didn’t answer and Scrooge’s stomach lurched uncomfortably. Part of him wanted to press Donald further, but he thought better of it. With a resigned sigh the old duck got to his feet and helped Gladstone move Donald to a nearby chair.

Once they had Donald settled, Scrooge straighten up. “Beakley.” He called out, not taking his eyes off his nephew.

“Mr. McDuck,” Beakley said from the doorway.

“Could you go get Donald’s medicine from his room?” Scrooge asked turning to face her and ignoring Donald’s small whine of protest. Beakley gave him a curt nod and left the room.

Once she was gone, Scrooge turned back to his nephews. Donald seemed to have recovered some. He was still hunched over himself, but his eyes were half-lidded and his breathing had evened out.

“I’m fine,” Donald reiterated as firmly as he could muster. Scrooge let out an exasperated sigh.

“Of course you are,” Scrooge commented dryly. Then shook his head and gave Donald a stern look. “You need to take your medicine lad. How do you expect to get better without them?”

Donald flinched and dropped his gaze. Gladstone gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder and a sympathetic smile. It didn’t take long for Beakley to return to the kitchen.

“Here you are, Mr. McDuck,” she said handing off the pill box to the old duck. Scrooge gave her a quick nod and turned pensively to his nephew.

He took a deep breath to steel himself. “Donald.” He said in the most placating tone he could manage. Donald immediately shrunk further into himself.

“Come on lad,” Scrooge continued gently. He stepped over to the distressed duck and brought himself down to Donald’s eye level. Donald pointedly looked away. “I don’t want you in pain.”

Donald bit into his lower lip and closed his eyes. He took a few deep, slow breaths, then finally turned back to Scrooge. Tears glistened in his eyes. “I don’t want to lose myself again.”

His quiet words hung heavy in the air. Scrooge stares intently into his nephew’s eyes, a feeling of dread bubbles up in his gut. His mind suddenly flashed to the pills he had confiscated from Donald on the plane.

“Lad,” Scrooge said softly, momentarily at a loss words. He closed eyes and took a deep breath to center himself.

“Donald,” he continued with renewed conviction and fixed a steady gaze at the younger duck. He popped open the pill case and held it out for Donald to examine. “None of these are going to hurt you.”

He pulled out each pill separately and carefully explained each one while Donald watched on wearily. “I swear to you.” Scrooge said seriously once he finished his explanation. “I would never give you anything that would harm you.”

A tense silence took hold of the room as Donald studied the old duck’s face thoughtfully. He eyed the pill case suspiciously and let out a resigned sigh. “Alright.” He said defeatedly and hesitantly took the pill case from Scrooge’s outstretched hand. Beakley fetched him a glass of water to take the pills with.

Scrooge couldn’t help letting out a sigh of relief when Donald finally swallowed down the medicine. He gave the younger duck a critical look and cautiously patted his shoulder.

“Well my boy,” Scrooge said, choosing his words carefully. “I think it’s time you went back to bed.”

A soft sound from the doorway drew the old duck’s attention. All four children were piled up by the doorframe, watching the scene in nervous silence. Scrooge gave Gladstone a meaningful look. Gladstone gave him an understanding nod in reply.

“I’ve got it Unk,” he said softly, flashing a confident smile and slipped out of the room to address the children.

With that taken care of, Scrooge turned back to Donald. “Alright then, up you get.” He said, gently helping Donald up. Donald clambered silently to his feet. Scrooge discretely beckoned Beakley over to help and the pair guided Donald out of the room.

The trip to Donald’s room was quiet and thankfully uneventful. Once they got, there Scrooge settled Donald into his bed, while Beakley hung back just inside the door. 

Donald drifted off to sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Scrooge gently stroked his sleeping nephew’s hair with a pained expression on his face.

“Beakley,” He said quietly, not turning to face her. “Did you have those pills I gave you analyzed?”

“Yes,” she answered promptly. “The report is on your desk.”

Scrooge nodded, still not taking his eyes off Donald. “Very well then, I shall be in my study.” He said heavily, and reluctantly pulled himself away from his nephew and left the room.

“Yes sir,” Beakley said quietly to his retreating back. Once he was gone she cast a troubled look back at the sleeping duck.

“There’s no need to worry, Bentina,” Duckworth said, materializing in the room. “I’ll keep an eye on Master Donald.”

Beakley sighed softly. “He’s not the only one I’m worried about.”


	17. Chapter 17

As soon as Gladstone stepped out of the kitchen he was swarmed by four concerned children.

“What happened to Uncle Donald?” Huey asked almost frantically, grabbing onto Gladstone’s shirt sleeve. “Is he alright?”

“Hey, hey, easy there Candy Cane,” Gladstone said dropping down to the boy’s level. “Double D’s just fine. He just over exerted himself. Once he gets some rest, he’ll be right as rain in no time.”

Gladstone placed a hand on top of Huey’s head and gave him a reassuring smile. He glanced over the children thoughtfully. “Hey, why don’t you kids give me a hand with the dishes, huh?”

There was a beat of silence while the kids exchanged a few quick, meaningful looks, before Huey turned back to his uncle.

“Alright, Uncle Gladstone,” Huey said softly. Gladstone gave them a bright smile and got to his feet.

“Alrighty then, let’s get to it,” Gladstone said cheerfully and headed back into the kitchen. The moment his back was turned the kids exchanged a quick conspiring glance, before following the lucky duck into the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beakley entered the study carrying a cup of nutmeg tea. She paused briefly just inside the doorway to look over her employer. Scrooge was hunched over his desk, pouring over an open file with a scowl on his face.

“Mr. McDuck,” she called, stepping over to his desk to set down the tea cup.

“I’m going to kill him,” Scrooge said viciously, and violently shoved the file away. “Did you read this?” He demanded, rounding on her.

“I did,” she answered evenly. The old duck let out a bitter huff and glared off into the distance.

“When I get my hands on that filthy,” Scrooge’s voice trailed off as he fumed. He angrily grabbed the tea cup and took a scolding gulp, burning his tongue.

Beakley eyed him contemplatively. “Will that do you any good now?” She asked meaningfully. Scrooge deflated and pulled the file back to absently flip through it.

“What kind of person,” Scrooge started slowly. “What kind of person has a medication developed solely for the purpose of impairing someone’s cognitive abilities?”

Beakley watched him silently, an unreadable expression on her face. He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. “No, no. Don’t answer that.” He continued quietly.

“He must have had it developed before he…” Scrooge’s voice trailed off momentarily. He gave himself a shake and continued. “There’s not much here about potential side effects.”

“It is, most likely, still an experimental drug,” Beakley supplied dutifully. For a moment, a fierce flame of rage flashed in Scrooge’s eyes. But it faded quickly.

“So, we have no idea what more damage these could do, or even if Donald is still under their influence,” Scrooge said bitterly, and slumped in his seat.

Beakley studied the old duck for a moment. “If it’s any consolation.” She said slowly. “Donald doesn’t appear to have any adverse side effects. If he lets himself get the rest he needs, he should make a full recovery.”

Scrooge huffed in response. “This shouldn’t have happened to him in the first place.”

“Scrooge Fergus McDuck!” Beakley said with all the ferocity of a disappointed grandmother. “We’ve been over this already. There’s nothing we can do to change the past. Donald’s home now, and he needs our support. That’s what we need to be focusing on.”

Scrooge sighed heavily and scrubbed his face in defeat. Beakley looked him over with a critical eye and stepped over to place a comforting hand on the older duck’s shoulder.

“We’ll get through this,” she reassured him. Scrooge looked up at her sorrowfully before dropping his gaze back to the file.

“I think I should avoid the Billionaires’ club for a while,” Scrooge said distantly. “I doubt I’d be able to control myself if I saw old Glumgold right now.”


End file.
